#Sonny Quinn Whump

[random-fandom-whump]

SEAL Team S06E01 (✚)

[mrsreadalot]

I didn't swoon

It has been a long hot day full of training. Jason made them sweat all day long, all of them nearing exhaustion now. The last torture of the day was the O-course in full gear. They all made it, not near anyone’s best time, but they still reached the finish line.

Finally, Jason is satisfied and tells the team to go get rid of their gear and take that long overdue shower. Arriving in their cage room, they all grab one of the cold waters from the fridge, gulping them down while discarding their gear in their cages.

Sonny and Clay are the first ones out of the door, heading for the shower room, closely followed by Jason and Ray.

“You coming?” Trent looks at Brock in his cage, who only packed his gear away but doesn’t look like he is going to the showers.

“In a moment. I have to check on Cerberus first, make sure he has enough to drink and to tell the kennel master to check his paws for blisters.”

Trent gives a short chuckle. “Sure. But remember, you have to drink, too. And you need that shower. You reek.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Brock waves him off, closes his cage and follows Trent out of the door of their cage room. He turns in the opposite direction and heads for the kennels to make sure his K9 partner is well taken care of.

Trent just shakes his head. He knows his best friend; knows he won’t relax or look after himself before he is satisfied that his dog is ok. Even before entering the shower room, Trent can hear the laughter and bantering from his teammates, Sonny being the loudest of all. Entering the room, the other four are already in the different stalls, water running in all of them, joking loudly with each other. He is surprised that they have enough energy to fool around. He himself feels utterly exhausted and just wants to soak in the water to loosen his muscles.

Entering one of the stalls, he slowly undresses, letting his dust- and sweat-soaked fatigues drop into one crumpled pile on the floor. He turns on the water and steps into the spray, savoring the warm stream running down his body, feeling his tight muscles relax while he listens to his brother’s banter.

When the water starts to cool, he makes quick work of shampooing and washing off the rest of the grime. Stepping out of the shower, he towels himself dry. All of his brothers have finished their showers, all in various states of undress, and already discussing evening plans.

Sonny is talking Clay into coming to the Bulkhead with a little help from Jason. Ray has already excused himself for the evening, having to be home to look after the kids for Naima to go to a school thing he can’t remember. Finally, Clay agrees to come and Sonny turns his attention to Trent.

“You coming, too, right?”

A beer at the Bulkhead is not out of the question, but an early evening on his couch sounds tempting, too.

“I don’t know…” Trent looks around for Brock’s opinion, not seeing him in any of the showers. “Where is Brock?”

Sonny looks around, so do the others.

“Huh.” Clay looks concerned. “I haven’t seen him in here.”

“He wanted to look after Cerb before showering, but that was…” Trent checks his watch. “Wow, nearly 45 minutes ago. He should be here already.”

They all share a concerned look and as if on an unseen signal they all rush to the door. Trent reaches their cage room first. Pushing the door open with more force than he meant to, he scans the empty room for his missing brothers. He already starts to turn back to head for the kennels, when Clay’s shout has him stop and turn back.

“Brock! Oh, shit.” Clay rushes past Trent, pulling him along, the other three a little slower but following.

Brock sits crumbled in the corner of his cage, eyes closed, unmoving. Trent slides to his knees next to him and tries to wake him up.

“Brock, hey buddy.” Trent gives him a firm sternal rub that gets him a low groan. He taps Brock’s cheeks, checks for a pulse and breathing. “Skin is hot and dry, pulse is fast and faint, breathing is shallow and fast. Clay, grab my bag. Sonny, help me get him out of here so we have more space. Ray call medical, tell them to bring a gurney.”

His brothers all rush to heed his orders. Sonny takes Brock’s feet while Trent grabs him under the arms, and they drag him out of his cage. Clay drops Trent’s bag next to him and Trent gets everything to start an iv-line and push fluids in.

“Jason, Clay, strip him to his boxers. Sonny, get water, cold if possible, we have to cool him down."

While the others work, Trent connects the first bag of fluids with the iv-line and lets the fluids rush into his brother. Working hand in hand Jason and Clay take only a few minutes to get Brock’s clothes off of him. Trent exchanges the already empty first bag of fluids just as Sonny arrives with a bucket of water and a few towels. Jason and Clay have already stripped Brock of his fatigues and start to help Sonny wet the towels and cover him with them. As the cool towels touch the hot and dry skin, Brock starts to stir, slowly trying to remove the uncomfortable cold against his skin.

“Easy, brother.” Trent squeezes Brocks shoulder softly, gently holding him down, making sure the iv-line stays in place.

Brock opens his eyes, blinking several times before he can focus on his brothers.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Trent holds his thumb and index finger in front of Brocks face.

“At least two. Where am I?” Brock’s voice is dry, cracked and he lifts his head a little to look around, trying to find out why he is lying on the floor in their cage room. “What happened?”

“You swooned in your cage, princess.” Sonny’s drawl betrays how worried he still is about his brother.

“Didn’t swoon.” Brock closes his eyes again, letting his head fall back to the floor. “Might have passed out.”

Trent chuckles. “Whatever you want to call it, you scared the living shit out of us. Don’t do that to us again!”

Brock just nods, still not opening his eyes again.

“Brock, how much did you drink today?”

At Trent’s question, Brock furrows his brows, trying to think back over the day. “Not sure… Probably not enough.”

Ray arrives with two paramedics and a gurney, and with the opening of the door Brock finally opens his eyes again.

“Hell, no.” Brock shakes his head when he sees them entering, sitting up a little, but already feeling dizzy.

“Hell, yes.” Trent answers. “You passed out in your cage. You have had a heat stroke. You need to go to the infirmary and probably stay there overnight for observation. No point arguing.”

“Oh, come on. I’m just a little dehydrated.” Brock tries to argue but he is cut off, this time by Jason.

“No, Brock. Go get checked out. Or I’ll sideline you.”

“Fine.” Brock gives in, lying back down.

The medics have watched the argument with amusement. They already know the guys from Bravo, know they only agree to go to the infirmary if ordered. Just like all the other Tier One operators. Trent gives them an update on what happened and how much fluid he has already given Brock. They help an embarrassed Brock to the gurney, leaving him covered in wet towels, and make their way to the base infirmary.

The rest of Bravo watch them leave with Brock, all shaking their heads.

“I need a drink.”

They all look at Trent, not believing that statement came from him. They all expected him to follow Brock, not letting him out of his sight.

“I need a drink. Then I’ll get him some fresh clothes and check on him at the infirmary.”

They all agree, smiling. Jason slings his arm around Trent’s shoulder and guides him out of the cage room.

“Let’s all finish dressing first and then we head to the Bulkhead. First round is on me.”

[chicgeekgirl89]

Get to Know Your Fanfic Writer

Thanks @bonheur-cafe for the tag!

When did you post your first ever fanfic?

Sept. 23, 2007. I was BARELY a freshman in college. My parents didn't let me have an official ff.net account because it had mature content on it. So one of my first acts as a free adult was to get an account and post a fic lol. I still remember the high I felt when reviews started coming in!

First character(s) you wrote for:

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn, but I didn't post anything for them until recently. My first posted fic was a Power Rangers one lol.

Main character(s) you’re currently writing for:

T.K. and Carlos, but I'm also dabbling in the Heartstopper fandom with Nick and Charlie.

Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan on writing about soon:

None that I can think of!

Fandom(s) you’re currently writing for:

9-1-1: Lone Star mostly, Heartstopper (sort of)

Platonic pairing(s) you currently write for:

I LOVED writing Sonny Quinn and Clay Spenser in the SEAL Team fandom. Currently writing Priya Singh and Nathan Ajayi in the Heartstopper fandom.

Romantic pairing(s) you currently write for:

T.K./Carlos and Nick/Charlie

Your top 3 tags on AO3 (if you post your works on AO3):

Fluff

Boys in Love

Whump

Your current platform where you post your works:

AO3 and Tumblr (sorry ff.net, you got mean)

Snippet of the wip you’re currently working on:

He stretches first, ignoring the twinging in his ribs and the slight ache at the base of his skull. It’s been almost a month since his kidnapping and near death at the hands of Trudie and her deranged son and Carlos refuses to let the effects linger any longer. He’s tired of everyone walking on eggshells around him, treating him like he might break at any moment. He knows about the secret text thread T.K. has going with his mom and sisters that’s full of daily updates about his sleep, his eating, his pain level; it’s like being an infant and it’s driving him crazy.

Tagging (no pressure! also sorry if I missed yours, I'm sure I'll see it as I scroll!): @lemonlyman-dotcom, @carlos-in-glasses, @liminalmemories21

[finiteuniverse13]

home is people, not a place 2/?

Part 1

Summary: Clay gets attacked on base. DEVGRU finds an issue in that.

TW: Blood mention, physical assault, canon typical violence

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @bravo-four-seal-team @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

Lisa is pissed. She has every right to be. Clay had been attacked in the Bravo cages.

She’d watched the kid go from a strap who couldn’t stay in his own lane to an operator who could lead Bravo – and Tier One, for that matter – into the future. And then he’d been attacked in his team’s cages, in his own cage. Blackburn was still at the hospital – he’d found the kid in a pool of his own blood; Lisa wouldn’t blame him if it took an apocalypse to separate him from the kid – making sure that the kid got appropriate care.

She pushed open the door to Bravo’s briefing room, not that it actually had any members of Bravo in it. Alpha, Charlie and Delta were all there, waiting on her brief on the situation. Echo would have been there, if not for them being halfway through their first deployment as a team. There had been hesitation about deploying Echo – the loss of the last Echo line-up still sat heavily in the Tier’s mind.

The three team’s Master Chiefs and 2ICs had sat in Bravo’s usual chairs. Full Metal and Derek sat in Jason and Ray’s chairs, respectively. Beau and his second in command had taken Sonny and Trent’s, while TJ was sat in Brock’s. Delta Two had distinctively chosen not to sit in Clay’s seat, instead sitting in a chair usually used for either Cerberus or a support staff member, depending on the op.

(It was very funny to watch Brock and Clay push a wheely chair with Cerberus on it between the two of them, and they’d pretty much mastered the art of doing it in the last few months. Cerb had found that if he allowed it to happen, he’d get belly rubs and treats, so he was unbothered about it)

The other seats had a random assignment, seemingly first-come-first-serve. The ones unlucky enough to have not found seats stood tensely, arms crossed and grumbling under their breath to each other.

Nobody sat in Clay’s seat.

All 18 operators looked up when she walked in, attention snapping to the person with the most information. As she walked in, her gaze caught on the table space in front of Clay’s chair. Clay had left his book on the table. It’s about as thick as a brick, and Sonny would probably take a glance at it and tell Clay it was as dry as one. The embossed cover didn’t read English, and Lisa had a feeling that there would be very few, if any, people in the room able to read any part of the book.

She stood at the front and pushed her emotions down. These operators were here for information, not emotion.

“At 0145 this morning, 4 Green Team members entered Bravo’s Cage room. At 0157, they left, and returned to the Green Team barracks. 0204, Lieutenant Commander Blackburn entered the Bravo cages. He dialled 911 and was assisted by Alpha Four-”

She cuts herself off for a few seconds, as various operators slapped Jordan on the back, mumbled thanks spreading through the room as they reassured themselves that one of their own had helped their kid.

“Assisted by Alpha Four at 0207. Ambulance arrived at 0215. The Green Team members were apprehended by Alpha and Delta at 0248.”

She pauses again as a ripple of thanks goes through to room, Alpha and Delta thanking their Master Chiefs and each other and Charlie thanking both teams.

“Petty Officer Spenser was admitted to hospital at 0224, and was assessed as having a concussion, a broken nose and 5 bruised ribs.”

Alpha, Charlie and Delta’s medics all take note of this. They’re probably going to be on Clay’s ass for the next few months about this, right behind Trent.

“Bravo arrived at the Hospital at 0243. They are all with him. Hayes has asked that he is included in any appropriate punishments.”

Full Metal snorts. “Bet he didn’t word it like that”

A series of chuckles and grins echoes around the room. He did not word it like that. There was much more swearing, and much, much less formal language. He’d implied murder no less than 5 times.

Lisa allowed a smile to pass through the stony calm façade she had up.

“Command has delegated these appropriate punishments to be carried out within DEVGRU and have stressed the importance of leaving an impression on future graduates. This cannot be a recuring event.”

TJ pipes up first, almost before she’d finished talking. “I say we let Metal work his magic, make sure nobody finds them.”

This gets mixed responses, but Lisa isn’t surprised when none are wholly negative. They all had a younger brother in the form of Clay, and they had all trained for years in the art of killing their enemies as swiftly and efficiently as possible, and these candidates fell wholly and completely under the title of ‘Enemy’.

Metal gives a faux hopeful look to Lisa, and Lisa can tell that he’s not entirely dismissed the possibility, even as he does a terrible job at pretending to still consider it an option that Lisa could authorize. Lisa plays into the joke – god knows that Tier One needs some light in this disastrous day – and gives him the look mostly used for when Bravo (usually Sonny) suggests a stupid idea that shouldn’t had even crossed their minds. Blackburn jokingly referred to it as her “bad dog” look, and it worked for its purpose, making the operators put their tails between their legs. A few faces form smiles, and a few look to be wavering on the edge of smiling.

“No murder, and no death.”

This gets her grumbles, and not all of them are joking. Clay had gotten all of them out of sticky situations. Every operator in Tier One had a handful story where Clay had needed to be briefed on their op, and all of them had at least one where he’d taking calls at 2am to translate over a connection that he could barely hear English through. He’d never berated them for waking him up, and had often taken time to teach various operators key phrases, if he knew they were deploying somewhere where he knew the language.

Beau goes next, possibly the most level-headed of the Master Chiefs – both in the room and not. “Advanced SERE?”

Now this, Lisa can work with. Something about her posture must change, a twitch in her face, because the room suddenly erupts in sound. Charlie Two, Delta Five and Alpha Three all are in close enough range to clap Beau on the back, and they do so in quick succession.

“Gentlemen.” She raises her voice to be heard by the room. There’s nothing gentle about the looks on their faces.

“I’ll leave you to figure something out. Report to me with a plan of action.” And with that, she gives them a single nod and begins to leave. Her turned back does not block out the whispers of violence, but it does hide the vicious smile that’s stretched itself out along her face.

Nobody would even think about hurting their kid. Ever again.

+

As Clay blearily opened his eyes, he realised that he’d succumbed to pain-med-induced sleep. A few hours had probably passed since then, based on the fact that sunlight was now filling the room. Sonny was sat on his right side, gaze focused on the room’s TV screen, which was showing a play-by-play of a football game. The volume was cranked down, and even as Clay becomes more aware; he can only hear every other word.

“Son?” The word passes his lips without him meaning it to. Sonny’s head snaps over to Clay, so fast that Clay fears he may have given himself whiplash.

“Hey Bam Bam, how ya doin?” The toothpick moves hypnotically. Stop looking at the toothpick. Stop it. Stop it. Sonny’s casual expression is betrayed by the slight waver in his voice, a sliver of raw emotion that Sonny couldn’t fully supress. Clay gives him a strained smile in lieu of answering and reaches his hand out. Sonny catches the hand before it moves very far, holding it in a tight grip.

Sonny’s thumb absently runs across Clay’s unblemished because he hadn’t even been able to fight back knuckles, and his spare hand turns off the TV, leaving them in silence.

“Kid.” Clay’s eyes widen slightly, and he almost pulls his hand out of Sonny’s grip at the softly spoken word. He tries to get in the apology, the explanation, before Sonny can tell him that Jason is punishing him for being unaware.

“I should have being paying attention. I know I should have been paying attention, I was just so tired.” I’m sorry I’m so sorry don’t kick me out please

Sonny freezes. What?

“Clay. Stop. Stop-” he has to cut himself off before he says something that includes those really touchy-feely-emotions he’s feeling. Thankfully, Clay doesn’t take the pause as an opportunity to continue. “Stop trying to defend yourself. None of us blame you, Blondie. You were on base. You should have been protected. We won’t fail you again.” Sonny gives him facts, because he knows that if he tries to do anything else he’ll make it worse.

“Son?” Clay recalls a voice calling through the dark, through the black water he was floating in, a voice he’d recognised; “Did Blackburn find me? He- he had blood on his hands”

For a moment, Sonny curses Clay’s blessings as a sniper. He’d always been able to notice the little things, the things none of them would notice. “Yeah, he was checking that none of us were sleeping in the cages.”

Clay nods, and then his brows furrow. He breaks eye contact with Sonny and frowns in the genal direction of his feet. His face makes what Sonny calls his ‘Brainiac’ Face, and Sonny can only assume that he’s thinking about what happened with Blackburn, not rationalizing with himself that the beating was somehow his fault.

“Son, can I talk to him?” Sonny doesn’t want to think about whatever that conversation is going to be, so he nods and begins to gather his stuff. His cap is hanging precariously from one on the bed’s corners, his phone on the bedside table. He stands and ruffles Clay’s head, laughing despite the stink-eye he gets for it. Clay doesn’t mind it, and he has the feeling the next few weeks, if not months, are going to be filled with various forms of physical contact to reassure his teammates that he was still with them.

And now he’d asked Sonny to get Blackburn. God what do you even say to the guy who had found you beaten? ‘Hey Boss, I’m sure that what you saw was horrifying, but I’m alright now?’ God help him. Sonny hadn’t given him a weird look, so he’d probably been expecting Clay to ask at some point.

Clay’s train of thought is interrupted when a soft knock sounds on the door. There’s a second of pause before the door opens. Clay can’t think of a time when Blackburn’s looked worse. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a vaguely haunted look in his eyes. His eyes have a red tinge, and Clay can’t tell if that’s from sleep deprivation, or something else. His hands are rubbed red and raw, and Clay can tell that Blackburn had taken extra care to get every fleck of blood off his hands. He’s in a jacket that looks too big for him, and Clay suspects that Trent had a hand in that. Since the injured person – Clay – wasn’t someone he could immediately care for, Trent had gone for the next best thing, a shaken Blackburn. Under the jacket, he’s still in his fatigues, and by the time he’s finished the assessment of Blackburn’s top half, he’d moved close and sat down, hiding everything below his waist from Clay’s view.

Blackburn reaches out, putting a palm on Clay’s forearm, Clay’s hand mirrors it on Blackburn’s arm, and tension bleeds from Blackburn’s figure. His shoulders slump slightly, and he leans forward.

“How are you feeling?”

Clay considers lying, considers saying that he’s not in any pain, considers easing Blackburn’s mind. He decides against it. Blackburn had found him in a pool of blood, it’s the least he can do to tell him the truth. “My ribs hurt. But I’m, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you were there.”

Clay is the sometimes literally bleeding heart of Bravo, levelling out Sonny’s emotional constipation, and the admission is the balm of some of the burns on Eric’s soul. Eric leaned forwards, shuffling closer to the bed, trying to hide the blood on his knees. He hadn’t been home to change, a call to his wife at 8am had told her that he wasn’t going to be home for a while. She, like the amazing wife she was, had been understanding, and then grumbled at him to let her sleep. They’d both laughed and exchanged ‘I love you’s before his wife ended the call. Clay didn’t need the stress of knowing that Eric had knelt in his blood. Nobody needs that.

“Gave me quite a scare, gave all of us quite a scare.” Eric doesn’t tell him that he’d spent the last half hour scrubbing his hands raw, that Jason had needed to strong-arm him into the waiting room, that Trent had given him one look and offered up his jacket, that he’d had his head in his hands until Sonny had come into the room and told him that Clay wanted to talk to him. Doesn’t tell him that he’d stood outside for nearly a minute before he’d knocked, that he’d needed to barrel in before he lost the nerve to speak to his operator. He usually prides himself on staying calm, on being collected, but Clay had been attacked in one of the few places on earth that he could honestly and without reservation call home. That scared Eric. If he couldn’t keep his operators safe on base, where would they be safe?

“Davis is talking to command about adding locks to the cage room doors, make sure this doesn’t happen again.” If she wasn’t already talking to command about it, she would be soon.

Clay nods. He shifts and grimaces in pain.

“Do you want me to get a nurse?” It’s a safe question, one that doesn’t involve the emotions in the room.

Clay ignores the lifeline. “I’m alright as I am. Did you get the guys?”

Eric nods. Breaking the news to Bravo had been the highlight of his morning. “Command is letting DEVGRU work out how to punish them.”

Clay grins. “I bet Metal is having fun with that.”

It’s Eric’s turn to smile, and a soft chuckle makes its way out. “Davis is under strict orders to not accept a plan that involves murder. I’m sure Alpha’s disagreeing with that.”

Alpha was most likely to deploy with Bravo, and all were in line with their Master Chief’s ‘Bury-first-questions-second’ policy when it came to Clay. Eric had a feeling it wouldn’t take much convincing to get Delta and Echo behind the plan, and that Charlie would only argue on principle.

Tier One was a brotherhood that didn’t take kindly to injury, as the world would learn.

+

Echo One – Zack Greer – a newly promoted Delta Two, wasn’t a very outgoing man. One and Twos were meant to both complement and contrast each other, a precarious balancing act honed over years of living out of each other’s pockets. TJ had needed a level head, so his Two was calm in the face of crisis.

Echo Two, on the other hand. A Floridian man, Elliot Howe, promoted from Charlie Three, who was under strict orders to never drink unsupervised with Sonny Quinn, lest they empty a bar and then burn said bar to the ground. He’d chaffed under Beau’s tight ship, so when the opportunity to move to form Echo had arisen, he was hard pushed to say no.

Together with Echo Three (Alpha Three), Echo Four (Delta Six) and two Green Team graduates as their Five and Six, they’d created a tight brotherhood.

Echo Five, Dan Wilder, a multilingual K9 handler, had initially been lost at DEVGRU, not quite fitting in. He’d reached out to the youngest operator – Bravo Six – in order to get some advice. What he didn’t know at the time is that their languages had overlap. Together with Clay and Ares – his K9 – he’d been able to find someone to practice with.

Echo had long since lost count of how many times Clay had come into their cage room, with a well-loved book, offering it to Dan with a brief explanation of how it would interest him. The book was never in English, and neither was the explanation. For all they knew, Clay could have spent the last few months giving Dan anything from Harry Potter to The Anarchist’s Cookbook (he’d actually only given Dan one of those, and Dan was under strict instructions not to tell them which, and Dan had been recommending others back).

Sonny, on the days when they were hanging out after work, sometimes tagged along to these exchanges. He’d joked about a book club, and Echo Two had picked up on the joke immediately, and since then the pair had resigned themselves to the nickname.

Between Clay’s frequent interactions with Dan and the fact that all of DEVGRU was deadly protective of Clay, it was no surprise that when Echo had heard the news, they hadn’t been happy. Command had fought a battle with Echo to keep them deployed, and Echo had nearly won. Dan had been on many rants, talking to empty space in Pashto – Four only caught a few words, and those were all along the lines of murder and death. Ares was giving out a low, constant growl. Both of the DEVGRU K9s were as protective as their owners, it seemed.

The door to their dorms slammed open and Zack marched in. Echo looks up in sync, and if it weren’t so serious, Zack would be amused by how much his men look like Meerkats. “Got word from Virginia.” This sets his men on edge, Howe half-steps forward, and his shoulders visibly tense up. “They found the green team rookies. We’ve been asked to approve the plan of their punishment before it gets sent to be approved by command.” Malicious smiles break out among the barracks.

They may be 7000 miles away, but they wouldn’t let anybody off the hook because of it.

[starryhc]

SEAL Team 2x13

That was INTENSE!! AHHHHHH!!

[burn-myself-down]

Lisa Davis + Bravo Team in SEAL Team 3x12

[repulsivepangolin]

SEAL Team Whumptober 30/31 -Full Metal

No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury

 ________________

It was definitely the last time he was gonna fall for that ‘not mine’ bullshit when one of their own was covered in blood.

But Metal had pulled it off incredibly well, and he hadn’t seen any signs of his brother struggling.

He had seen the blood, but he had not seen anything else which would suggest it was Metal’s. The man had been acting bullet proof as ever, and the dirt and grit he was covered in made it near impossible to see that he was getting paler.

 *    *    *

 He had never hit a fellow injured soldier, although he did have the urge to do that right about now.

They had made it back to the C-17, before the man chose to let him in on his little predicament. The blood covering the right side of Metal’s vest had been his own blood. Not someone else’s like he had claimed.

Trent could feel his face turn red with anger. Every cell in his body wanted to teach Metal a lesson in self-preservation. Both his hands curled into fists, as if he didn’t have a say in the matter.

“You do realize how incredibly stupid that was?” he asked as he watched Metal trying to get his t-shirt off.

“Blade broke the first time he stabbed me…” Metal shrugged his left shoulder, obviously mindful of the right side of his chest and his right shoulder, “Not much you can do with a mere inch. Don’t think the rest of the blade made it through my pec even…”

The urge to hit Metal grew stronger.

“I just need a few stitches.” Metal prompted, “Make sure these don’t pop open and start bleeding again. Some pressure and a quick-clot gauze stopped it easily.”

Trent didn’t make a move. Metal hadn’t even managed to get his t-shirt off. He didn’t say anything either, he just stood there, trying to hold back the verbal assault he had roaring inside his brain and the matching punches he was practically trembling to hold back.

“That guy could have collapsed your lung. Could’ve nicked a large artery…” Trent bit out.

“Well, he didn’t.” Metal tilted his head in lieu of a shrug, “Plus, that guy’s dead. I’m here.”

That was obviously the straw that broke the camel’s back. That was triggering enough to cause Trent to reel back and punch Full Metal.

First his right fist, his weak side, hit Metal’s jaw. Then his left fist planted itself at the lowest point of Metal’s sternum, or maybe right below that.

Then strong arms wrapped around his left elbow and pulled him backwards.

In front of him, Metal hunched forward and reached up to steady his shoulder. He coughed a few times as his diaphragm spasmed as a result of the blow to his solar plexus.

“Trent, this isn’t you…” Sonny’s voice was right by his ear, “This is not how you act.”

Metal coughed a few more times, still supporting his right shoulder with his left hand, still hunched over.

Trent was still trembling with anger.

“-Ow…” Metal croaked out as he slowly stood back to his full height, he looked down at his left hand against his right shoulder, blood was trickling out between two of his fingers, “So, stitches or are you gonna deck me again?”

Trent glared over at Metal, “I want to deck you…”

“Trent…” Sonny still had him in a good grip, and the warning tone in his voice told him not to act on what he wanted.

“-But you do need those stitches.” Trent added with a sigh, “And we need to talk about how incredibly stupid you were to hide that from us in the field.”

Metal nodded a little, still holding his hand near his right shoulder.

“-And you don’t get local for those stitches. You deserve to feel them.”

“Easy there, tiger…” Sonny tugged him back a little bit more, “You already punched him, twice. I think he already payed his dues.”

“Wasn’t gonna ask for local…” Metal shrugged his left shoulder a bit, “Was hoping for some tylenol though… -Shoulder is sore…”

 *    *    *

 “-Sorry for punching you…” Trent sighed as he closed up the third of the gashes near and around Metal’s shoulder. The impulsive act had gnawed on his conscience for almost five minutes already.

“Probably deserved it…” Metal swallowed, keeping his eyes locked on something hanging from the ceiling of the plane.

“You kinda did.” Trent nodded, “But I shouldn’t have done it anyway…”

“Besides, pretty sure my two year old niece delivers harder punches than that straight right you have.”

Trent chuckled a bit, “That’s just a bit exaggerated…”

Metal smirked a little and looked down at where Trent’s hands were managing forceps, needle driver and sutures.

“I could administer some local anesthetic if it stings too much…” Trent shrugged, not looking up from where his hands were working.

“Nah, I’m good.” Metal sighed, “I can handle a few stitches.”

Trent looked up, then he glanced down at where Metal was supporting his right elbow. “Your shoulder bothering you?”

Metal looked back at the D-ring hanging from the ceiling, “A little. Subluxated it.”

Trent offered up a sympathetic grimace, “Did you get it back in?”

“Slipped back before I even had a chance to get up…” Metal looked back at Trent. “Has that ‘inside-swollen’ feeling. I can’t lift it properly.”

“Can you show me?”

“Not while you’re hacking away at me with that needle…” Metal smirked a bit. “Later.”

Trent nodded and resumed his stitch work. “Just, promise me that next time, you let me know that you’re hurt…”

Metal nodded a little.

“Straight away…” Trent added, “Not this ‘once-we-make-it-back-to-the-plane’ bullshit, okay?”

Metal nodded again.

“-But I’ve gotta say, the blade breaking was a lucky strike.”

“Sure was.” Metal agreed, “I expected that knife to sink in to its hilt.”

Trent almost shuddered at the thought, “Glad that didn’t happen…”

Metal nodded.

 *    *    *

 Trent was not impressed by Metal’s attempt at lifting his right arm. Not at all. “I’ve got a suggestion…”

Metal tiled his head, questioningly.

“Sling.”

“No.”

“I know you hate stuff that says ‘I-am-wounded’, but your shoulder will probably be grateful for it. Maybe even ache a bit less.”

Metal frowned.

“Come on now…” Trent shrugged, “Just for a few days, until your shoulder feels better. As sure as the doctors who check you out when we land back home don’t say otherwise.”

Metal sighed, “Alright…”

[kaira-elffish]

Hey There!

So, I’m new to the Tumblr and looking to add friends who are into the TV Show SEAL Team. I’m down to toss ideas for fanfictions, what-if’s, and general chatter.

I also like the shows; The Brave, Chicago PD, The Boys and well... just about anything whumpy.

[likeyoumorethelesseryoubreathe]

SEAL Team - part 1

[cookieswriting]

Brother (SEAL Team)

So I’ve been on a huge NEEDTOBREATHE kick since seeing their acoustic concert last weekend, and their song Brother has been one of the ones playing on repeat.  It made me think of SEAL Team, of Clay and the way he’s been abandoned by everyone outside of Bravo.  So this is a series of snippets of the team reminding him that the Brotherhood will never abandon him set to the lyrics of aforementioned amazing song.

Ramblers in the wilderness we can’t find what we need We get a little restless from the searching Get a little worn down in between Like a bull chasing the matador is the man left to his own schemes Everybody needs someone beside em’ shining like a lighthouse from the sea

Jason glanced up when he entered the cages, surprised to see that he’d been beaten there by the youngest team member.  Clay seemed to be rearranging his cage, tucking clothes away on his shelves.  “Morning, Spenser...early start, yeah?”

The way he startled rose alarms in Jason’s mind; SEALs weren’t exactly the easiest types to surprise.  Sure, it was early in the morning, but he knew Clay had a consistent routine in the morning that would have him awake and alert.  Taking a closer look, Jason noticed the kid’s hammock hooked to the corner of his cage.  Clay turned, saw the direction of his gaze, and sidestepped in front of it.  “Y-yeah...I-uh…”

“Did you sleep here?”  Clay didn’t answer, instead running his hand through his hair nervously.  “Is there something going on with your apartment? You could’ve given me a call, man…”  He knew it was more than that if the younger man was so...jumpy, but he knew he was missing something.

Hesitant blue eyes studied him for a moment before Clay seemed to decide to open up about what was on his mind.  “Nah, man, I just...I ran into Stella before we spun up and my apartment was just too quiet last night, ya know?”

“Ouch,” the team leader hissed, understanding the notion all too well.  “How was seeing her again?”

Clay shrugged, squaring away the last of his things.  “Not really sure yet, to be honest.  I think that’s why I just came here last night...here seems to be the one place where things make sense right now.”  He sent Jason a wry smile.  “I’ll figure it out.”

As the blonde passed, Jason settled a hand on his shoulder to stop him.  “If you need to talk through anything, you know where I am, Kid.”  Clay nodded, and Jason allowed him to continue on to the gym.

Brother, let me be your shelter Never leave you all alone I can be the one you call When you’re low Brother, let me be your fortress When the night winds are driving on Be the one to light the way Bring you home

“Hey Spense, man got a sec?” Ray called as he approached his teammate, passing Sonny and Davis as they left the table to dance.  Clay gestured to the seat Sonny had just abandoned with an easy smile and took a long drink from his beer.  Ray hated the thought that he might erase that contentment from his brother.  “I, uh...I ran into Stella at the store, found out she’s living in town now.”

Clay dropped his chin to his chest with a sigh before looking back up, and Ray was able to see that he’d already known.  “Yeah...I ran into her myself, right before we spun up last week.  Thanks for giving me the heads up, though.”

“I didn’t want to have to tell you, but I’d rather that than you get blindsided if I could’ve helped it.”  It was the thought, right?  “How are you doing with that?”

Clay shrugged, drew another pull of beer, and this time his smile was not quite so genuine.  “It caught me off-guard when I first saw her, haven’t really felt right at my apartment since, but I’m figuring it out.  I stopped going to our usual spots and haven’t run into her yet, so it’ll be what it’ll be I guess.”

Ray didn’t like the thought of Clay being so disoriented by the fact that he now had to worry about running into Stella.  “You know our couch is-”

“Clay! Hey, kiddo, thought I might catch you here!”

The voice that interrupted them had Clay rolling his eyes, and the heavy hand that came down on his shoulder had the blonde flinching.  Ray tensed and rose to his feet, eyes shifting to the elder Spenser.  “We haven’t met, Ashland...but your reputation certainly precedes you.  Senior Chief Ray Perry,” he supplied, though he didn’t move when Ash offered a hand to shake.  “Might I offer a word of advice?”  Still somewhat oblivious to the fact that the man before him was not being friendly, Ash nodded, only mildly put off by Ray’s stoicism.  “You’d be wise to leave now, before the rest of the team realizes that you’re here.  None of us trust you, and believe me when I tell you that I am the most level-headed when alcohol is involved.  And trust me...there has been plenty of it tonight.”

The elder Spenser floundered for a moment, looking to Clay and finding his son staring down at his beer.  Ray crossed his arms over his chest and raised an expectant brow, eyes leaving Ash only long enough to locate the rest of the team.  With a disbelieving huff, Ash raised his hands in surrender and was gone.  Clay finally looked up to meet his 2IC’s gaze, and Ray found himself tempted to follow Ash out into the night for the vulnerability in his blue eyes.  They nodded wordlessly to one another, and Ray tapped his beer bottle lightly against his younger teammate’s.

Face down in the desert now there’s a cage locked around my heart I found a way to drop the keys where my failures were Now my hands can’t reach that far I ain’t made for a rivalry I could never take the world alone I know that in my weakness I am strong, but It’s your love that brings me home

“Spenser, if you don’t stop squirming I’m going to friggin’ sedate you,” Trent growled as he pinned his injured teammate’s shoulder down, using the move to immobilize and apply pressure simultaneously.  “They’ve got the situation under control, which they would’ve been able to do in another couple of minutes if you hadn’t gone all self-sacrifice and gotten yourself shot!”

“There were-”

“They’ve got every exit covered, kid. Hey, Clay, look at me.”  The medic waited until the younger man complied.  “Stand down, let me patch you up.”  The command finally seemed to sink in, and Trent eased up on his grip so that he could focus on tending to the through-and-through in Clay’s shoulder.  “What the hell were you thinking, exposing yourself like that?”

He wasn’t really expecting a reply, but the one he got spoke volumes - both in his words and tone.  “Couldn’t get a warning out fast enough, and better me than any one of you,” Clay muttered, finally allowing his head to drop back to the ground with a thunk.  Trent’s hands stilled for a moment until blue eyes gazed up at him.

“Okay, I’m going to say this once, and you’re going to listen, got it?” Trent had to take a slow breath to ease his simmering anger.  “If I ever hear that ‘better me than you’ bullshit again, I will kick your ass and then let Sonny take the second shot.  You are not expendable, Clay.”

The younger man hissed through his teeth when Trent was somewhat rougher than necessary.  “Tell that - easy, Trent! - tell that to my father…” Clay pounded his clenched fist against the ground as the medic applied a bandage over the front and tugged his shoulder to access the exit wound.  He tried to feel bad about causing his teammate pain, but Trent couldn’t help the anger coming through.

“I’d like to think you recognize that your father is an ass.  Did you ever stop to think what your little act of self sacrifice would do to your team? Your brothers?” Clay stared up at him, guilt and a touch of grief shining in his eyes.  He knew the younger man was likely remembering the feeling of almost losing Sonny.  Good, maybe he’d finally get it.  “You’re not just a member of some team, Spense.  We are a family.  We need each other, out here and at home.  So like I said,” he set a gloved hand against the side of Clay’s neck.  “You’re not expendable, brother.”  

Clay nodded solemnly, and Trent got back to work as the sound of their brothers wrapping up the firefight and calling for their status reached them.  

Brother, let me be your shelter Never leave you all alone I can be the one you call When you’re low Brother, let me be your fortress When the night winds are driving on Be the one to light the way Bring you home

Brock followed his dog out into the cool night, and smiled wryly when he saw where Cerberus ended up.  Clay started scratching behind the dog’s ear without looking away from the fire. His arm was still secure in its sling, something that surprised the canine handler; he’d given Trent a hard time on the flight home about making him wear the sling, so all of Bravo had been on alert to make him put it back on if they caught him without it.  Jason had restricted Clay to base while he healed, though Brock got the impression that it wasn’t much of an imposition.

“Finding the answers to life in that fire, Spense?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Clay murmured.  

Brock dropped into the seat next to his teammate and stared into the fire, giving him a moment before speaking again.  “So what’s the fire telling you tonight?”

The blonde sighed before answering.  “That maybe I’m not meant to be a SEAL and have love.”  Brock finally turned and looked at him, confused.  Clay ran a hand through his hair.  “I ran into Stella.  Seeing her just...brought things into perspective I guess.  Reminded me that nothing mattered more than the team.”

“You don’t think we are capable of having both?” Not that Brock could argue much, considering he hadn’t had a serious relationship since Green Team...but he also wasn’t looking for one.  With Stella, Clay had seemed like he’d have stuck it out.

“I mean look at our team.  Ray’s the only one capable of holding down a family...and that’s because his wife is a damn superhero.  I guess...I guess it’s just got me wondering if being a SEAL dooms us to a life of broken relationship and loneliness.”

Brock studied Clay’s face, unable to discern exactly where his thoughts were taking him.  “If it does...the team still worth it?”

“Always,” Spenser answered firmly, finally seeming to snap out of his trance.  “Like I said, seeing Stella brought that into focus for me.  You guys are my family, and she wasn’t prepared to come second. Who’s to say that’s not how it’ll always be?”

“I dunno, brother...but I can promise you that you’ll never be without family.  Might get lonely when we’re home sometimes, but you can always call me, Sonny, Trent…”  Clay grinned over at him, and Brock glared when the blonde reached for the strap of his sling.  “Oh ho ho, no you don’t pretty boy.  I am your brother and you know I’ve always got your back, but don’t think for a second I won’t rat you out to Trent if you take that thing off.”

And when you call and need me near Sayin' where'd you go? Brother, I'm right here And on those days when the sky begins to fall You're the blood of my blood We can get through it all

“Has anyone seen Spenser? He hasn’t responded to my texts or answered my calls all morning,” Jason called as he entered the gym where the rest of the team - minus their youngest - was working out.  They all glanced at one another, stopped what they were doing and collectively shook their heads.

“What’s up, Jase?” Ray questioned.

“Another late night interview with Ash last night about a last minute addition that he’s putting into his book before it gets released...he talked about the Korea fiasco.  Never outright names Clay, but…”

“But it’s enough to implicate him for sharing top secret information about a highly classified mission...son of a bitch!” Sonny punched the bag in front of him as hard as he could, not nearly satisfied by the hit thanks to the cushioning of his gloves.  “I’ll fucking kill him with my bare hands if I ever see that asshole.  What is Blackburn saying?”

“Blackburn is too busy hunting down the real leak to say much.  Just that we need to keep an eye on Clay, preferably on base so that he’s not blindsided if they decide they want him in custody before this blows up.  So we need to track him down, make sure he’s okay, and bring him here.  We’ll stay with him as long as we can.  I’m heading to his apartment now.”  The defeated tone of their leader’s voice only fueled Sonny’s rage, and he tore his gloves off and left them on the floor.

“Whoever finds him, text the rest of us.  I’ll look here on base.”  Sonny didn’t bother waiting to hear where the others were headed; knowing Clay, he’d be somewhere alone...but he wouldn’t risk the Navy thinking he’d taken off and making his situation even worse.  The kid was somewhere within the confines of the base.

Sonny wasn’t entirely surprised to find the young SEAL on the barracks roof, and he was just glad that the kid was far from the edge.  “You looking to put a hole in the ceiling? Cause I’m pretty sure you’ve already worn that patch down pretty well, Goldilocks.”

Clay barely glanced up at him, shaking his head and clenching his fists repeatedly as he paced.  The energy reminded him of a caged animal.  “Not now, Quinn,” he growled.  Fitting.  Sonny discreetly pulled out his phone to let Jason know the kid was safe.

“Exactly now, Spenser.  You’ve got the whole team out lookin’ for you.”  

He scoffed, but finally stopped to face his teammate head-on.  “Wouldn’t exactly be smart of me to look like I went AWOL right about now, would it?”  Clay gripped his hair and leaned back against the wall.  “Sonny, I didn’t-”

“Brother, if you finish that sentence, I will knock you out.  Didn’t think you’d been the blabbermouth before, sure as hell don’t think it now.”  He watched the younger man drop his head back against the bricks, and wished that he could wring elder Spenser’s neck in that moment.  Before Clay could smack his head against the wall, Sonny reached forward and grabbed his shoulders.  “We know you didn’t do this, Clay.”

“Tell that to the cake-eaters who are probably ready for my head on a pike...he set me up perfectly.”  Blue eyes reflected desperation and panic.  “First he sets it up to meet publicly when the interviews break about the Saudi mission.  Not supposed to be public knowledge, but not a big enough deal for them to do anything about it.  Enough to connect me to the bastard’s book.  Then...then when he comes out with the info about the Korea mission, they’ve already got me in the back of their minds.  So of course they’re going to look to me.  Of course I’d gloat about my missions to the father I could never please.  Of course…” His breath hitched, and tears filled his eyes.  Sonny moved his hands to either side of Clay’s face.

“This isn’t on you, Clay.  Which means it is on someone else, and believe me when I tell you we will not rest until we find the son of a bitch.  Bravo isn’t going to let this go down without a fight.”

Clay gripped Sonny’s wrists tightly, breaths becoming short and erratic.  “And if you can’t find them?  Sonny...when we almost lost you on that mission...I-I don’t think I’d ever been so scared.  You were right...this team, this brotherhood is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  I’d been toying with the idea of giving it up for someone who wasn’t even prepared to stand by me...and now? Now I’m going to lose it anyway for something I didn’t even do.  For...for what, Son? What the hell did I do to Ash that he’s willing to get me thrown in Leavenworth?”  A tear slid down his cheek as he rambled, and Sonny tugged him forward to press their foreheads together.

“Breathe, Clay.  Your father is not your family.  We are your family.  He’s a fucking worthless piece of shit who is not going to win, do you hear me?  Family doesn’t do what he’s done...family protects one another, come what may.  We will not let you fall, brother.”  Sonny didn’t let the younger man go until he’d taken a few shuddering breaths and nodded his understanding.

Brother, let me be your shelter Never leave you all alone I can be the one you call When you’re feelin' low Brother, let me be your fortress When the night winds are driving on Be the one to light the way Bring you home

The court martial hearing was something of a blur to Clay.  After his conversation on the roof with Sonny, it hadn’t taken long for him to be taken into custody by the MP’s.  His entire team had been with him, sitting outside of their cages as they’d told Blackburn they would be.  They were sharing beers and swapping stories, waiting out what they all knew would be inevitable.  

His brothers rose with him when the time came, silently supporting him the only way they could.  Their commander and Ellis had been MIA at the time, and it wasn’t until the trial a week later that he understood why; with his brothers and members of support, Alpha and Charlie standing for him, Commander Blackburn presented evidence of the true leak.  A member of their support team embittered by what he considered to be the glory that the Operators stole from them.  

Clay was floored, overwhelmed with relief and gratitude for the men and women standing on his behalf.  He’d had plenty of time during his week detained in Norfolk to think about what his team meant to him; to see the same dedication reflected in the eyes of said team, particularly considering the absence of his own father, brought into sharp focus just how much he’d come to rely on this brotherhood.  To be the light in the midst of storms, the fortress around him both in combat and in life...to bring him home.

[ao3feed-ncis]

EVEN THE STRONG NEED SAVING SOMETIMES...

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2VJxOnQ

by Wendy98765

Domestic violence only happens to the weak right? Not to a strong tier one seal operator, a member of the best team his country had produced… Wrong, it happens to the isolated, the emotionally vulnerable… The desperate need to hide the shame, keeping it secret…

Words: 13829, Chapters: 13/?, Language: English

Fandoms: SEAL Team (TV), NCIS

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Clay Spenser, Sonny Quinn, Anthony DiNozzo, Jethro Gibbs, Trent Sawyer, Brock Reynolds, Jason Hayes, Ray Perry, Cerberus (SEAL Team TV), Eric Blackburn, Lisa Davis, Chris Pacci, Abby Sciuto, Mandy Ellis, Captain Harrington (SEAL Team TV), Rocky Balboa, Derek (SEAL Team TV), OC Shaw, OC Nelson

Relationships: Clay Spencer/OC

Additional Tags: Domestic Violence, Angst, Bisexuality, References to Depression, Clay Spenser Whump, car bomb

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2VJxOnQ

[chicgeekgirl89]

A Little Bit Broken Chap. 11: Itch

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Lisa Davis, Jason Hayes, Clay Spenser, Trent Sawyer, Full Metal, Cerberus, Brock Reynolds is there but he doesn’t say anything, Ray Perry, Naima Perry

Summary: Sonny is itchy and miserable.

                                     XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“So if we breach here and here that should get us in,” Jason said, pointing to the blueprints on the screen.

Sonny tried to listen to the practice drill plans as he scratched at his arm. Damn mosquitoes. They’d bit him up something fierce. He’d told everybody they needed mosquito netting for beds and better insect repellent but nooooooo. Nobody ever listened to Sonny’s concerns. Now they probably all had West Nile. And Malaria. And Dengue Fever. He scratched more aggressively.

“You got fleas or something?” Clay asked, eyeing him strangely.

“Those damn mosquitoes,” Sonny muttered. “Ate me up the entire two weeks we were in country.”

It had been a lengthy, boring op with lots of hanging around, waiting for intel that never came, and green lights that never got lit. Sonny had set up a couple of soccer games for the local kids with all their down time to keep himself from going stir crazy. Everybody was glad to be home and running strategy until the next spin-up. 

“If Full Metal and I come in from the top I think that gives up better coverage,” Ray said.

Jason shook his head. “Too exposed. What about the side?”

Now his leg was itching too. What the hell? How had the buggers gotten inside his pants? God damn it.

He tried to scratch it against the table leg and the whole thing shifted, coffee sloshing around dangerously. “Sorry,” he grunted.

Clay raised his eyebrows and even Cerberus perked his head up, but Sonny ignored them.

“Well whatever we do we’re gonna have to be quick about it,” Full Metal said. “They get one whiff of us and they’ll light the whole place up.”

“What about—all right Sonny, what the hell?” Jason finally asked.

“What?” Sonny asked.

“You’re sitting there squirming like somebody’s shoving a hot poker up your ass.”

Every eye turned to him, which just made him itch more. And was it getting hotter? “It’s those damn mosquitoes. Ate me the fuck up.”

“There’s no mosquito in the world that should make you do what you’re doing,” Ray said pointedly.

Trent grabbed Sonny’s arm and yanked up his sleeve. Sonny stared. His skin was covered in little red bumps, some of which were open and oozing. “That doesn’t look like mosquitoes,” Clay said skeptically.

“Nope,” Trent said. “That’s chicken pox.”

“What?” Sonny looked at him in horror. “No way. That’s for kids.”

“Or adults that haven’t had it,” Trent said. “Did you get it when you were a kid?”

“No. Quinns don’t get sick,” he scoffed.

“Right. Sure. And you didn’t get vaccinated for it?”

“Why the hell would I get vaccinated for a kiddy disease?”

“In case you’re ever around a bunch of unvaccinated kids. Like we were last week Mr. Soccer-Man,” Clay said with a grin.

“Oh Sonny boy, you’ve done it now.” Jason was smirking so hard it made Sonny want to punch him. 

“Trent, it’s gotta be something else,” Sonny insisted, starting to sweat. It was really getting hot.

“Fever, rash, definitely chicken pox,” Trent grunted. “Only thing to do is go home and wait it out.”

“For how long?” Sonny asked, starting to scratch again.

“Stop that!” Trent said. “You’ll scar.”

“Yeah wouldn’t want to mess up that beautiful complexion,” Clay said.

“You shut up,” Sonny snapped at him. “How am I supposed to deal with this?”

“Calamine lotion,” Ray told him. “Stop and pick some up. It’s gonna get worse before it gets better.”

“Worse?!”

By the time Sonny got home he thought he might be dying. His head ached, he was freezing cold and sweating, and he itched like crazy. He collapsed into bed and fell immediately into a restless sleep punctuated by dreams of fire ants and mosquitoes crawling all over him.

He was woken by a hand tenderly stroking his forehead. He squinted up at Lisa who looked down on him with a fond sort of bemused smile on her face. “You are so stupid,” she said.

“Not my fault.” His voice was croaky and rough.

“It’s definitely your fault.” She shook her head. “All your fears and phobias and you somehow miss getting a chicken pox vaccine? What am I going to do with you?”

“Get me a beer?” he asked hopefully, a hand scratching absentmindedly at his chest.

She trapped it with her own, forcing him to stop. “Do not scratch. You’ll regret it. How about I run you a bath instead? We’ll put some oatmeal in it.”

“I am not taking a bath like some frou frou spa day,” he protested.

“Then itch away my friend,” she said, getting up. “I’m going to make dinner. Let me know when you change your mind.”

He lasted about ten more minutes before he gave in. “All right!” he yelled. “Make me a lady bath!”

She walked back into the room, a smirk on her face. “That’s what I thought.”

As it turned out an oatmeal bath wasn’t too bad. It was actually kind of nice. And it did help a lot with the itching. “I told you so,” Lisa said, sitting on the edge of the tub.

Sonny opened one eye. “This stays between us right?”

She snapped a picture of his face with her phone. “That depends on if you’re nice to me. If not, this goes straight to Clay’s inbox.”

Sonny spent an incredibly miserable week and a half at home in bed. The rash spread all over his body to the point that he couldn’t walk by a mirror without grimacing in horror. He was no Brad Pitt, but now he looked like something the cat had dragged in. Not that he was doing much walking. The fever and body aches had him pretty well confined to his bed or the couch. Never in his life had he been more grateful for Lisa who brought him food and forced him to complete some basic hygiene tasks to keep himself alive and going.

Trent stopped by a handful of times, likely aware that Sonny would die in his own bed rather than go to the hospital if things became dire. Clay came by with some Gatorades and chicken soup. Even Naima came over to check in, probably prompted by Ray’s complete lack of information on the situation. “Looks like you’re on the mend,” she said after taking his temperature. “The spots should clear up within a couple of days. Have you been using the lotion I sent with Trent?”

“Yes. Don’t help much with the itching though.”

“Well there’s not a whole lot we can do about that. It’s got to be getting better though, right?”

“I suppose,” he grumbled.

“Just remember not to—“

“Scratch. I got it.”

“You know you’re pretty lucky. Chicken pox isn’t typically too bad in kids, but it can be really hard on adults.”

“This is lucky?!” Sonny asked.

She gave him a wry smile. “Your fever could have spiked so high it caused brain damage. Or you could have gotten a bacterial infection in your skin. Or given yourself pneumonia. Or—“

“All right I got it,” he griped.

She stood, picking up her purse. “What I’m saying is, next time, make sure you get a vaccine.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice. Thanks for coming by.” She’d worked a full shift before coming over and he knew she wanted to get home to Ray and the kids. But that was who Naima was, if someone on the team was down, she was there to pick them back up.

She patted his shoulder. “Call if you need anything.”

Lisa came home a couple hours later. “Hey, how was your day?” she asked.

“D’you know The Price is Right is still on?”

“Nope, and it is definitely time for you to go back to work,” she said, settling in next to him on the bed. “I heard Naima came by and gave you the go ahead.”

“Yep. I think she brought lasagna or something. It’s in the fridge.”

“Oh thank god, I was not in the mood to figure out dinner again tonight.” She slid closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Chips?” He offered her the bag of BBQ chips he’d been munching on.

“Thanks.”

He reached across his chest to scratch his shoulder and she caught his hand without looking. “Don’t.”

[chicgeekgirl89]

Mercy is Out of Your Reach: Chap. 5

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Clay Spenser, Lisa Davis, Jason Hayes, and the rest of the team

Read Chapters 1-4 Here

                           XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A strangled, choking gasp pulled Clay from his sleep. “Sonny?”

Bravo Three lay on the floor, body rigid as he struggled to get air into his lungs. Clay moved toward him, shifting so he could get Sonny’s head into his lap. “Breathe,” he commanded, willing it with every fiber of his being. “Sonny breathe damn it!”

Sonny’s eyes remained closed, sweat beading on his forehead. Clay could feel the heat of his skin through Sonny’s shirt. He grabbed the hem of his own shirt and tore off a piece, dipping it in their water bucket and pressing it against Sonny’s forehead.

A moment later, too long for Clay’s comfort, Sonny sucked in a half decent breath and his eyes fluttered open. “Clay,” he rasped.

“Right here.” Clay squeezed his arm reassuringly. “How was your nap princess?”

Sonny tried for a chuckle but it ended with a series of coughs and a long wheeze that doubled Clay’s worry. “Gotta…get…my beauty sleep.”

“Well I hate to tell you this, it’s not helping much,” Clay said forcing a smile and dabbing more cool water on his forehead.

“Still prettier’n you.”

“And you always will be.”

Sonny shifted, wincing as another breath rattled around in his lungs. “Clay—“

Clay felt a ripple of fear down his spine. He knew that tone of voice. “You just shut up and relax all right? Pretend I’m Diamond or Candy or…Sunshine at the Pleasure Palace.”

“Listen—“

“Sonny—“

“You gotta let me say it.”

“We’re gonna get out of here,” Clay said, his voice cracking as he tried to stay calm. “You don’t need to say anything.”

“But if we don’t—“

“No!” Clay dabbed the cloth more furiously. “They’re coming. Jason, Brock, Trent, Ray, Metal, they’re all coming for us.”

“Sometimes,” Sonny wheezed, “sometimes the cavalry comes too late.”

“That’s not going to happen this time.”

“But if it does—“

“It won’t—“

“Damn it just let me talk!” Sonny huffed.

Clay went quiet, not ready for what he was about to hear. Sonny took a breath. “You been, you been real great. I know I’ve been…not myself lately and I’m sorry. Clay you’re my brother, and I—I was too torn up about my own stuff to be real nice about everything with Rebecca, so I’m sorry for that. You’ve been a good friend, a good teammate and it’s been-“ his voice caught, “it’s been an honor to serve with you.”

Clay’s throat felt tight. “You too brother.”

“I need you,” Sonny coughed painfully, “I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything.”

“I need you to tell Lisa—“

“No.” Clay set his makeshift cooling rag down. This was too much. He couldn’t go through this again. They’d almost lost Sonny in that torpedo tube and it had been hell. Somehow watching it happen in front of his eyes like this was worse. “No whatever you have to say, you’re going to tell her.”

“Please. You gotta tell her,” Sonny swallowed trying for another breath, “tell her I still love her. And I wish,” he coughed, “I wish it woulda gone different.”

Clay swallowed down the tears filling his eyes as he gently stroked Sonny’s damp hair. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Listen to me,” Sonny wheezed. “If you can…if you can get out of here. You go. You leave me here and you go.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Clay said roughly.

“Don’t be…an idiot. If you can leave…you get yourself out of here…and don’t worry about me.” 

There was a commotion in the hall and the door opened, two men grabbing Clay and hauling him to his feet as Sonny slid off his lap. This time when he was dumped in front of Farhad he was alone. “What are you doing to my friend?” Clay asked.

“Your friend is dying,” Farhad said. “I don’t need him. He can’t tell me what I want to know when he’s barely conscious.”

Clay felt the bite of the man’s words in his gut. Time was running out and he had no way of helping either of them. “Just let us go man. Or ransom us or something,” Clay begged, once again lying through his teeth. A ransom video might give the team something to go on. “My parents, they’ll pay—“

“Enough!” The eyes turned on him were cold, glittering with hatred. “Enough of this nonsense. Tell me why you are in my country!”

“How many more times do I have to say it?” Clay asked. “We’re just backpacking—“

The blow to his back pitched him forward so his forehead cracked against the floor and he saw stars. What followed immediately was an assault on his ribcage so brutal he could feel as each one of them cracked. He curled into a ball, tried to protect himself from the blows raining down on him but it was impossible and all he could do was continue to try and stay alive as pain radiated from every part of his body.

He wasn’t sure how long it went on, he might have blacked out, but when it was finally over he could feel his right eye swelling shut and taste blood in his mouth. And breathing hurt like a bitch.

Farhad stooped low, speaking directly into his ear. “I am done. You think I am stupid? That I don’t know your team must be looking for you? I have other ways of gaining information. By the time they arrives I will be long gone. I will kill you and your friend and your team will find nothing but your mangled bodies—“

There was a tremendous bang and the whole room shook. Farhad stood up. “Take him back. Find out what’s going on. Now!”

Clay was dragged back to the cell, choking back cries of agony the entire way. They tossed him inside and he hit the floor with a strangled moan. He rolled onto his back and focused on staying conscious as each breath stabbed daggers through his chest.

“Clay?’ His name came out of Sonny’s mouth, raspy and choked.

“I’m all right,” Clay managed to get out. “I’m okay. But I think our time’s running out brother.”

“Yeah,” Sonny said, eyes closing again. “I thought it might be.” 

Clay was still trying to figure out what had spared him from immediate death. A gas explosion? An attack?

The familiar staccato of gunfire came from down the hall. “Sonny,” Clay rasped. “Sonny d’you hear that?”

There was no response besides a labored, wheezing breath. “Sonny.” He tried to slide closer, but every movement was agony, and he could only drag himself a few inches before he had to stop.

More gunfire, closer this time. Footsteps pounded down the hall and the next thing he knew Jason Hayes and Brock Reynolds were looking at him through the bars like he was some kind of zoo exhibit. “Oh thank god,” Clay groaned as Jason used a key to open the door.

“Havoc Base this is Bravo One, we’ve got them. I repeat we have Sonny and Clay. Hey, you all right?” Jason dropped to his knees and put a hand on Clay’s shoulder.

“Get—get Sonny,” he moaned, curling in on himself as more pain stabbed through his ribs. “He’s bad Jase, he’s real bad.”

Jason’s eyes found Sonny in the far corner of the cell and he swore, keying his radio. “Bravo One to Bravo Four. Need you over here ASAP.”

“Copy that Bravo One. On my way,” Trent said.

“Can you sit up?” Jason asked Clay.

“Yeah, help me.” Clay sucked in a breath and tried not to scream as Jason got him more upright, grabbing onto his boss’ shoulder and squeezing tightly.

“Ribs?” Jason asked.

Clay nodded, trying to get the pain under control. “Sonny—“

“He’s breathing,” Brock assured him. He’d pulled Sonny into his lap, Cerb standing faithfully by his side.

“They dunked him,” Clay said between shallow breaths. “A lot. He’s got a fever, hasn’t been able to breathe.”

Trent arrived at that moment and got straight to work. “Here.” He handed Jason a shot of morphine. Clay breathed a sigh of relief as it took the edge off his pain, bringing it down to a level that was tolerable enough for him to think again. He abruptly remembered the reason they were here in the first place. “Jase! Jase, Farhad is here. He—“

“We know,” Jason said. “Don’t worry, we’ve got it under control. 

Trent did a cursory examination of Sonny. “Probably pneumonia,” he said grimly. “His lungs sound bad. We gotta get him outta here.”

“I can walk on my own,” Clay said, but Jason silenced him with a look as he keyed his radio again. “Bravo Two how we looking out there?” 

“Clearing you an exit now Bravo One.”

“Time to go.” Jason helped Clay to his feet. Even with the morphine. standing up doubled his pain and made his vision grey out.

“Hey, hey stay with me. We’re almost home,” Jason said roughly as Clay sagged against him.

Brock and Trent each took one side of Sonny and followed them down the hall. Clay spotted several bodies. Their boys had made quick work of the compound. 

They made it almost all the way out of the building before they met resistance. Clay felt a horrible grating in his ribs as Jason took a sharp turn and shoved him behind a doorframe.

“Bravo Two we are taking heavy fire at the exit!” he yelled into the comms as he and Brock started firing back, while Trent held onto Sonny.

“Coming in hot!” Ray replied just before even more gunfire could be heard outside.

Within minutes the door was clear. “Let’s get you out of here,” Jason said, shouldering his weapon so he could get Clay up again.

They made it outside joining up with the rest of the team and a bunch of people in uniforms that Clay recognized as French special forces. “It is damn good to see your face,” Ray told him.

“You too,” Clay said, throat thick with relief.

“Let’s get them in the truck. Sonny needs help fast,” Trent said.

Clay didn’t even protest when his position in the truck ended up being cradled against Jason’s chest. He was exhausted and the morphine had started wearing off. “Start him on this.” Trent tossed Jason a bag of fluid and Jason began the IV in Clay’s arm while Trent hooked Sonny up to oxygen and his own IV’s. 

“He told me to leave him,” Clay said, eyes glued to Sonny’s face. 

“Course he did,” Jason muttered.

“They kept asking who we were. Wouldn’t give it up. If you hadn’t come when you did—“

“Hey, we got you now,” Ray said with a nod. “It’s all in the past.”

Clay let out a moan as the truck hit a pothole, jostling everyone onboard. “How’d you find us?”

“Davis. All Davis,” Jason said.

Thank god for that woman. He owed her so many beers. Heck he owed her a keg. Or maybe a yacht at this point.

Trent seemed satisfied with Sonny’s condition so he turned and looked at Clay, reaching for his wrist to take his pulse. “I’m all right,” Clay said, even though his head throbbed and his ribs felt like they’d been broken into thousands of tiny pieces.

“How’s your breathing?”

“My lung’s not punctured.” Clay let out a grunt as Trent lifted his shirt and began probing at him. “Just feels like it.”

“You could have internal bleeding.”

Trent hit a particularly bad spot and Clay jolted, letting out a pained cry. “All right, all right take it easy,” Jason said, as Clay fell back against him, heart hammering painfully in his chest. “You good?”

“Son of a bitch!” Clay gasped, fists clenched at his sides. “Oh god damn it that hurts!”

“Well your ribs are broke, of course they hurt,” Trent said gruffly.

“Tell me you got Farhad,” Clay said between gritted teeth. “Because if you didn’t I’m going back there to kill him myself.”

Jason nodded. “Metal, you ready?”

“We clear?” Metal asked.

“Roger that,” Brock told him from the driver’s seat.

“Then it’s boom time.” Metal pressed a trigger in his hand and Clay could hear an explosion in the distance.

“We got special permission to clean house,” Ray said with a grin.

“Clean or wipe it off the map?” Clay let out a chuckle, which he immediately regretted as pain stabbed through him. “Sonny woulda liked that.”

Ray looked at their buddy’s prone form. “We’ll tell him when he wakes up.”

[chicgeekgirl89]

Where There’s Smoke

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Clay Spenser, Jason Hayes, Ray Perry, Trent Sawyer, Brock Reynolds, Cerberus, Vic Lopez

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“God damn it you scared the mother fucking life out of us,” Trent said, loosening Sonny’s vest as he coughed and gasped for air. Trent was by nature on the quieter side, so anytime he started swearing this much it meant they had genuinely scared him. Apparently almost losing four members of his team was enough to send him over the edge. “Of all the shitty fucking stupid…”

Sonny ignored his buddy’s rant and took in the other members of his team. Ray was talking to Vic who seemed out of it, probably because he’d taken the worst of the smoke down by that hole. And Clay was still pulling Brock through their makeshift escape hatch. Trent was right, this had been a shitty fucking stupid way to nearly go out. “Wash your eyes out,” Trent ordered, shoving a water bottle into his face.

“We ain’t got time—“

“Do it now or I’ll fucking do it for you,” he growled, popping the cap off threateningly.

“Cerb,” Brock was gasping. His face was covered in soot, his eyes wide with panic. “Is he—“

“He’s fine,” Jason said, pouring some water over the dog’s head so he could check for injury. “Better than the rest of you. They mobile?”

“Yeah sooner we get ‘em back the better. They all need oxygen,” Trent said from where he was working to wake up a groggy Vic. 

“Let’s move,” Jason ordered.

Clay grabbed Sonny’s arm but Sonny shook him off. “I’m fine,” he rasped and then hacked out a cough that had him doubling over. 

“Take a breather,” Clay said.

Sonny shook his head. “We gotta get back,” he wheezed.

Lisa was in trouble. Big trouble. The biggest kind of trouble she’d probably ever been in and none of them were there to help her. If they didn’t get back in time…he couldn’t even think about what losing her would mean for the team. And for him.

“Yeah but if you leave your lungs here it’s not going to help anything,” Clay told him. “I got ya. Come on.” He got under Sonny’s shoulder and helped him to his feet.

“Hold up!” Trent said sharply. He put his head to Vic’s chest. “He’s not breathing.”

Shit. Fucking shit. Sonny could only watch, frozen in fear as Trent began to pump Vic’s chest up and down. They’d killed their rookie on the first run out. It couldn’t end this way. Not here. Not for such a fucking stupid reason.

“Trent?” Jason asked after a long minute.

Trent paused, checking for a pulse and breath sounds. He nodded. “He’s back. Let’s get out of here. If it happens again I’m gonna have to intubate and I’d rather do that onboard than out in the open.”

It was a slog back to the plane. Cerb was whining and making raspy bark sounds, turning Brock into a basket case. Sonny’s chest felt like an elephant had taken up residence, but he wasn’t going to admit that to anybody. By the time they reached the plane he’d really started to feel the effects of nearly becoming burnt toast. His head throbbed and his eyes felt raw and weepy. 

Trent and Ray lowered Vic to the ground while Brock collapsed beside him, Cerb nosing his way into his handler’s lap with a sad whine. Clay tried to shove Sonny in their direction but he dug his heels in. “I’m fine.”

“Go sit your ass down over there,” Clay said. “Go!” he said again when Sonny didn’t move. “Trent’s just gonna come after you anyway once he’s done with Brock and Vic.”

Sonny reluctantly took a seat. Trent strapped oxygen onto Vic and began taking his vital signs while Brock collapsed onto a crate and rested his head against the side of the transport, his fingers running repeatedly over Cerb’s back. 

“Tell the pilot we’re ready for take-off,” Jason said to Ray. “And put a rush on it.”

It still might not be enough. If they hadn’t gotten trapped. If they’d all just moved a little faster.

Brock started coughing violently, hunching over in his seat. “Hey, hey breathe buddy,” Sonny said, surprised when his voice came out sounding like a bucket of rusty nails. Maybe he wasn’t as all right as he’d thought.

Trent looked up and immediately grabbed two more oxygen masks. “Put this on.” He threw one at Sonny while he strapped the other one to Brock’s face. “You got tightness in your chest?” he asked.

Brock nodded wearily. “Take deep breaths all right? Tell me if it gets worse,” Trent said.

“Is Vic all right?” Sonny asked.

“Put that the fuck on right now,” Trent ordered, reaching over to shove the oxygen mask onto Sonny’s face. “You can take it off when I fucking say you can.”

Still swearing. Still mad. Good to know.

Vic let out a moan and began to stir. “Hey, no, don’t do that,” Trent said grabbing Vic’s hand to keep him from dislodging the oxygen.

Vic fought back, pushing against Bravo Four, his eyes swinging wildly around the plane in obvious confusion. Sonny pulled off his own mask despite Trent’s warning and grabbed Vic’s other arm. “Hey, hey! You’re all right! Calm down. We got you,” he said.

Vic’s eyes found his and Sonny watched some of the panic disappear. “You good?” Trent asked.

He nodded and they both let go. “Deep breaths,” Trent ordered. “Can you sit up?”

Another nod so Trent and Sonny got him up, bracing him against the wall. Trent pulled out a pen light and began to check his eyes. “Don’t see anything in there, but they’re pretty irritated. I’ll get you some saline to wash ‘em out,” he said. “You breathing okay now? It’s not too difficult?”

Vic nodded. “Good man.” Trent squeezed his shoulder and went to get the saline solution. 

Clay appeared with a couple wet towels. “Try and get off as much soot off as you can. That stuff is full of carcinogens.”

Leave it to the boy scout to know something like that. Sonny checked his watch and felt his stomach lurch. They weren’t going to make it.

There was a new tightness in his chest now that had nothing to do with smoke or fire. They had to stop this. They had to save her. 

“We’ll get there,” Clay said quietly.

“I know,” Sonny said, even though he didn’t believe it.

It was unsettling how much the whole thing was affecting him. When they’d been trapped, when smoke had filled that room, all he could think about was how much regretted the whole thing. How he hated the way he’d pushed her out. How he had been too wrapped up in his own damn hurt and anger to see that she was drowning. And instead of offering her a lifeline like family should, he’d pushed her away.

He was an asshole.

He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, but choked instead, chest squeezing so tightly he thought his spine might snap. “Sonny, you all right?” Clay asked.

He shook his head, unable to stop the barking, choking hack coming from his lungs. “Trent!” Clay yelled. “Lie down. Son of a bitch Sonny lie down!”

He shoved Sonny onto his back, pressing the oxygen back over his face. His vision became fuzzy at the edges as Trent appeared. He felt like he was back underwater again, his lungs filling up, killing him from the inside out.

There was a sharp pain in his thigh and then everything went grey for a long while.

When he came to he was still on the floor, his head in Trent’s lap. “If you fucking move I will kill you,” Trent growled, his hands firmly clamped onto Sonny’s shoulders.

Moving didn’t really feel like it was on the menu so he didn’t even try. His lungs seemed to kind of be working again, but his limbs were heavy and his eyes begged to close again. He forced them open, forced his brain to work. If they were going to save Davis they needed everybody.

From his semi-upright position he could see Brock completely zonked out on Cerb’s side. Vic looked pale, his eyes red rimmed, but he was upright, drinking some water, a protein bar on the seat beside him.

“How is he?” Jason approached, his face newly stitched up.

“Better now that he’s not being a fucking idiot,” Trent said. “They all need to get checked out back at the base.”

Sonny felt a flare of panic and struggled against Trent’s grasp. “But Davis—“

Trent gripped his shoulders tighter. “I’m fucking fine!” Sonny protested.

“You almost went into respiratory arrest!”

Jason held up a hand. “We’ll take care of things with Davis. Then you get checked out. All three of you.” He turned so Vic could see him. The kid nodded tiredly. Jason pointed a finger at Sonny. “No excuses. You see a real doctor. Not one who’s using her stripper money to pay her way through medical school.”

“Scout’s honor,” Sonny rasped.

He’d do anything if it meant getting Lisa out of trouble. He owed her that much.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Mercy is Out of Your Reach: Chap. 3

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Clay Spenser, Lisa Davis, Jason Hayes, and the rest of the team

Read Chapters 1-3 Here

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Clay wasn’t a doctor, but he could tell Sonny was in bad shape. It had been a little over forty-eight hours, by his best estimate, since they’d been taken, and his buddy looked like he was going downhill fast. Sonny’s clothes still weren’t completely dry from the initial soaking and subsequent near drowning. He was propped against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as if he was trying to keep himself warm, and his breathing seemed labored.

His own back was bruised and hurting from the minor beating he’d taken, but he was doing fine by comparison. At least they’d been pretty well left alone since their initial chat with Farhad. Maybe he had too many other things on his bad guy agenda to pay attention to his American prisoners. Although Clay suspected that wasn’t going to last much longer. “You all right?” he asked.

“Right as rain,” Sonny grunted, but he didn’t lift his head.

“You got a plan yet for getting us out of here?” Clay asked, switching topics since Sonny didn’t seem interested in talking about himself. 

Sonny squinted at him. “You asking me that cuz you really want to know? Or cuz you’ve already got one and you want to show off?”

He wished he had a plan. If he did they’d be out of here by now. But so far everything he’d come up with wasn’t feasible. Not while they were locked in this cell with armed guards all up and down the hall. Not with Sonny so sick. But maybe together they could come up with something. “Guards come by every half hour. Always in twos,” he said.

“There were six more cells and four doors between here and that room they took us to.”

Clay nodded; he’d noticed the same thing. “The girl who dropped the water off.”

That had been sometime yesterday. She’d been young, afraid. The guards waited outside while she set down the bucket and two plates of food. There had been no direct eye contact and when Clay had attempted to speak to her she’d flinched away and out the door as fast as she could.

“Could be somebody’s daughter,” Sonny said before coughing into his elbow.

“Hey you need to drink more man,” Clay said, taking in Sonny’s gray pallor. 

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Don’t matter how I look.” Sonny offered up a weak smirk. “‘Sides, you heard Farhad. You’re the pretty one anyway.”

The cell door clanged open and four guards stepped in. “We doing this again?” Sonny asked as the weapons were pointed at them and a command issued that clearly meant, “Get up.”

Back down the same hall, back into the same room. This time they didn’t waste a second; Sonny was dragged immediately over to the tub and dunked under. “Hey!” Clay struggled against the guards holding him and received several blows to his kidneys for his trouble. “Leave him alone!”

They pulled Sonny up and he made a horrible gasping, retching sound before they plunged him back under. In desperation Clay lashed out and managed to knock down one of his captors, the other thrown off balance, his grip going loose. Clay pulled away and made it about two feet toward Sonny before all his muscles seized at once and he collapsed. It was only when the excruciating pain finally hit that he realized what had happened. A stun gun. They’d struck him with a stun gun.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but by the time he was coherent again he could only lay groaning on the floor. There was a wet slap beside him and was able to turn his head enough to find Sonny in a similar position, coughing as if his lungs were trying to leave his body. “We’re just tourists,” Clay managed to gasp out. “We don’t know what you want. Please let us go.”

“I don’t believe you,” Farhad said. “You are American military. Stop trying to make me think otherwise.”

“Man please, please just let us go,” Clay begged.

It got him a boot to his ribs. “Tell me what you were doing in that café.”

“We were just eating man! My buddy’s got a cold, we got him some tea!”

Another kick that had him curling in on himself in pain. “I am losing my patience!” Farhad spat. “As I said before, I only need one of you. If you won’t talk, perhaps your wet friend over here will.”

Clay watched in horror as they pulled Sonny off the ground. One man pinned his arms behind his back while the other drew back his fist and punched him in the mouth. Sonny let out a sickened moan, blood dribbling onto the floor as they sank a second punch into his gut.

“Hey, hey stop it!” Clay yelled. “Leave him alone! He’s sick! Leave him alone!”

“Tell me what I want to know.” Farhad’s eyes were menacing.

Clay clenched his teeth. “We’re just tourists.”

“Fine then. I’m going to give you one more night to think about it. Tomorrow, I won’t care so much if either of you live. Or if your face stays too pretty for the Navy.”

Clay couldn’t tell if Sonny was conscious or not as they were dragged back to the cell. He waited for the door to shut before dragging himself over to his friend. “Sonny! Sonny hey! Hey look at me. Talk to me.”

Sonny remained listless, eyes fluttering and then mumbled something unintelligible. Clay shook him, trying not to hurt him any further, but needing him to be conscious.

“‘m ‘wake,” Sonny mumbled, rolling onto his side and spitting out a mouthful of blood. 

“How bad are you hurt?”

“Not bad.” He coughed and it sounded painful.

“Drink some water.” Clay reached for the bucket with aching, trembling muscles and pushed it toward him.

“Don’t need—“

“Damn it Sonny, drink some water!” Clay said desperately. He didn’t have any other way to help his brother and he was grasping at straws. The least Sonny could do was listen.

“You drink some,” Sonny rasped. “I just drank half a damn swimming pool. You’re the one that got hit with a stun gun. Probably still can’t feel your feet.”

It was true, he couldn’t. His head ached and the muscle in his left calf kept cramping, along with his back and shoulders. “We’ll both drink some.”

He waited for Sonny to take a couple sips and then took his own. Sonny coughed painfully again and let his head fall back against the wall, struggling to get a full breath. Clay swallowed hard and closed his eyes. They needed to be found. Soon.

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His lungs ached. Every inhale was like breathing through a straw and every cough made sent fire through his chest. He couldn’t remember ever being this sick. What had just been a cold had definitely turned into something far worse. 

He knew Jason and the team were searching for them. But he also knew that their abduction had come out of nowhere and there was a good chance that they might not find them in time. 

Or ever. 

He was grateful that so far they’d gone easier on Clay. He was the senior man, the brunt of whatever was happening should fall to him. But damn it would be nice if they stopped giving him so many baths.

Something caught in his chest and he hacked out a cough into his elbow, gasping for air and taking a sip of water to soothe his raw throat and burning lungs. When he looked up Clay was watching him.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

Sonny shook his head, suppressing another cough as much as he could. “Not bad.”

“Sonny.”

“Don’t matter. Ain’t nothing you can do about it anyway.”

“You’re shivering.”

“Stone floor.” Sonny tapped it with his fist. “Cold as ice. Even in the summer.”

Clay slid closer so they were side by side and put a hand to Sonny’s forehead. “You’ve got a fever.”

No wonder his joints ached and his head felt like a bag of wet cement. “Little fever never hurt anybody.”

“Yeah except for the part where it could kill you or fry your brain like an egg.”

“Eh, not much up there anyway,” Sonny said with a grin, wincing when it made his split lip pull and start bleeding again. With how painful each breath was he’d almost forgotten that they’d thrown a couple sucker punches in for good medicine.

“Sonny—“

“So tell me about Rebecca.”

Clay raised his eyebrows at the abrupt change of subject. “You don’t like Rebecca.”

“But I like you.” Sonny tried to settle into a more comfortable position and then gave up. Everything was uncomfortable when you couldn’t breathe. “And you like her. Sell her to me.”

“Sell her to you?”

“You know what I mean. Tell me what’s good about her. Give me all the dirty details.”

“I’m not—“ Clay shook his head. “She’s smart.”

“Well I figured that Mr. ‘War and Peace is Bedtime Reading.’ You’re always going for the hot and nerdy ones.”

“She’s passionate.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Clay rolled his eyes. “I mean about her job. She really cares, you know? Wants to make change.”

“Ah, one of those.”

“Yeah one of those. But she means it. I can tell. She makes me feel…like maybe I can do something more, you know? Be better. Make the world a better place.”

Sonny shrugged. “Kinda thought you already did that.”

“You know what I mean. In a different way. A bigger way.”

“You want bigger I’ll let you handle the explosives next time we need ‘em.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, I can appreciate wanting to make things better.” He squinted at his friend. “Don’t tell me the looks don’t have anything to do with it though.”

Clay tried and failed to cover up his smirk. “She is definitely…nice to look at.”

“Ha! I knew it!” The laugh cost him and he started coughing again. “Damn it.”

He took a shaky breath trying to get under control. “You all right?” Clay asked.

“I’m fine. Fine as I’m gonna be.” Every breath felt like knives, but sure. He was fine. 

“So what about you and Davis?”

Just the mention of her name and it felt like he’d been shot directly through the heart. “What about it?”

Clay looked at him. “You never really told me all that happened there.”

He didn’t want to talk about this now. Or maybe ever. “We were together, then we weren’t. Job got in the way.”

“But when you were together, it was good?”

“Best thing I’ve ever had,” Sonny said, throat feeling tight as memories flitted through his mind.

“D’you love her?”

Sonny fiddled with a stray string on his shirt. “We loved each other.”

The use of past tense felt like a lie even as it passed his lips. Sitting here in this filthy hellhole he knew: he still had feelings for her. He’d probably always have feelings for her. Their’s was a story left unfinished and now…it looked like they might never get a shot at a happy ending.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Mercy is Out of Your Reach: Chap. 2

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Sonny Quinn, Clay Spenser, Jason Hayes, Lisa Davis, and the rest of the team

Read Chapter 1 Here

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“I want to know where they are now,” Jason demanded, hands on his hips as he paced the room in agitation. 

“We lost ISR because the drone hit a bird,” Davis said, fingers flying over her keyboard. “I’m contacting our allies to see if anybody eyes in the sky that we can take a look at.”

“Well do it faster,” Jason snapped.

“Jay.” Ray was leaning against the wall, calm as ever and it just pissed Jason off more.

“Don’t!” he said, holding up a hand in warning. “They were right there and we didn’t get to them in time and now they’re gone.”

“We’re all doing everything we can,” Ray said. “It doesn’t help anything to go flying off the handle.”

“Well it makes me feel better.” He ran a hand over his face. “I want to know why they were taken.”

“Might not be connected to the op,” Blackburn said. “Maybe they saw two Americans and thought it would be a good ransom grab.”

Jason fixed him with a look. “You really believe that?”

“I’m just trying to cover all our bases Jason.”

Things had gone to hell so unbelievably fast. One second they were listening in on a conversation, the next there had been screaming and banging and by the time Jason, Trent, and Brock had gotten into the café it had been emptied out. Clay and Sonny’s comms had both gone offline immediately and Sonny’s button cam shorted out shortly thereafter. They’d circled the whole town for nearly two hours, searching for any sign of their brothers before Blackburn had called them back to base.

It felt like they’d abandoned Clay and Sonny and it was eating at Jason’s gut. You didn’t leave your brothers behind. Not for anything. “You all should take a break,” Blackburn said.

God damn the man and his indefatigable calm in times like these. All Jason wanted to do was rip a room apart, while guys like Blackburn and Ray could just stand around like it was any other day; like having teammates in mortal danger was no big deal. “No. We’re not leaving until we find them,” he said.

“Nobody’s putting you on a plane home Jason. You all need a break,” Mandy said. “Go. We’ll call you when we find something.”

Not if; when. Leave it to Mandy to be so sure. But Jason knew that finding them was only half the battle. For all they knew their boys were already dead. And every moment they stayed missing would only make that more likely.

“C’mon Jay,” Ray said as the other guys moved slowly out of the room.

The team settled at a table in the makeshift mess, everybody eating out of duty rather than actual hunger. “You gotta eat Jason,” Trent said quietly as Jason stared moodily at his dinner.

“Yeah well they’re probably not eating.” Jason’s leg was jumping under the table and he ran a hand up and down his thigh, anxiety crawling inside him. There were two of them, they could support each other. Unless they weren’t together. And either way, with Sonny sick…

“Which is all the more reason you should,” Ray said. “Need to be on top of our game if we’re going to get them back.”

They were right so he swallowed something down, but his mind was still in overdrive. “Let’s go over it again.”

“We’ve been over it Jason, nothing’s going to change,” Full Metal said.

“We’re going over it again,” Jason ground out.

They all shot looks at one another but nobody protested further so he pushed ahead. “Ray and Full Metal were on overwatch. What did you see?”

Ray sighed. “Everything was going according to plan. We went high, rooftop across the street. View of the front of the café. I got on the scope, Metal was there with back up.”

“Clay and Sonny entered the café. Thirty-two minutes later some of Farhad’s guys entered. At forty-three minutes there was a bang and we saw smoke coming out of the front of the café,” Metal continued. “Nobody came out the front but civilians. The targets did not reappear and neither did Clay or Sonny.”

“And we were down the block in the van,” Brock said. “Eyes on the back door the whole time. Nobody came out there either.”

“Then how the hell did they get out of there?” Jason asked. “If they’d been taken on foot we would’ve caught up with them. Why didn’t we see them get thrown in a truck or a van?”

“Could have been an alley door,” Trent said. “Space between the buildings is so narrow, Davis said they couldn’t get a good look on ISR.”

“You’re telling me they took out two Tier One operators and managed to drag them down an alley?”

“They weren’t heavily armed,” Brock said. “Sonny was off his game. If they surprised them and there were enough guys…”

Jason worked his jaw. “We need another look at that café.”

He stood, intent on heading out immediately but Blackburn appeared as if he sensed his team leader about to fly off the handle. “Not tonight you’re not. Nobody outside the wire.”

“They don’t have—“

“Time. I realize that,” Eric said. “But you can’t go back in the dead of the night and start snooping around. If anybody sees you they could tip off the captors and then we’ll never find them. Not to mention it could compromise the op we came here for in the first place. Let us work the problem overnight and you can head back out in the morning.” He looked at the rest of the team. “Get some sleep. All of you. You’re going to need it.”

Jason felt the team watching him, waiting for the okay. He gave a short nod. “Go.”

His eyes stayed on Blackburn. “I want an answer Eric.”

“We all do,” Blackburn assured him. “Get some sleep. If we find anything I’ll come get you myself.”

Jason took his time heading back to their temporary bunk room, unable to stop his mind from turning over and over. All of this for some chatter that might not even be anything. They’d come here to find out when Farhad Mahmoudi was planning to arrive and who else might be meeting with him. Instead they’d ended up down two brothers.

The tightness in his chest was creeping back in and he took a few deep breaths trying to keep it at bay. He couldn’t lose it. Not now. Not with Sonny and Clay’s lives on the line.

Everyone was up before sunrise and when Blackburn saw them coming through the door he didn’t seem surprised. Davis and Mandy were both still there, Mandy looking at a map of the area while Davis had her ear glued to the phone.

“Anything?” Jason asked.

“We would have gotten you if there was,” Blackburn said. 

Judging from the many empty coffee cups littering the table none of the support staff had slept. Jason felt a rush of gratitude toward them and also a smidge of guilt. Yes, Bravo needed sleep to be ready for a rescue op, but it stung to leave the work up to the rest of the group. 

Davis hung up the phone, defeat all over her face. “I’ve called everyone I can think of. No one else had eyes on this area during the time Clay and Sonny were taken. France has a team in country, they said they’ll help if we need a rescue op, and everyone has promised to let us know if they hear chatter, but we have no additional visuals.”

It was clear from the silence of the group that they were disheartened. Hours of work and they were no closer to finding their brothers. Jason looked to Eric. “We good to go take another look?”

“I’ll authorize it,” Blackburn said. “But I don’t need to remind you to keep things quiet.”

“It’ll be like we’re not even there,” Jason told him, already halfway to the door.

They all piled into a trucks, choosing to leave Cerberus behind rather than attract attention with a domesticated dog on a leash. “Ray and Brock are going into the café,” Jason said as they drove. “Metal, Trent and I will scout the outside. Be on the alert. They took our boys once, let’s not give them anybody else.”

Ray met his eyes. “We’re going to find something.”

Jason nodded. They had to. There was no other choice.

Ray and Brock headed inside cafe while Trent, Metal, and Jason began casually scanning the street. Jason immediately walked to the back of the café and then around the side. Sure enough there was an alley. It was narrow, but just big enough for a man to walk through. Further inspection in the dirt showed him drag marks, making his chest feel tight all over again. 

“Jase!”

He looked up to find Metal and Trent beckoning him further down the alley. “There’s a door here,” Metal said, nodding toward it.

“The drag marks go right up to it,” Trent said. “If they took them into this building and came out further down the block or around the corner, could explain why we didn’t see anything.”

Jason nodded. “Let’s take a walk.”

They left the alley and continued their walk up the street. Crisscrossing tire tracks covered the road making it impossible to tell which might have belonged to a vehicle carrying two Navy SEALs. He was just about to suggest they move on when a shop on the other side of the street caught his eye. “Hey,” he nodded toward it.

“That a camera?” Metal asked.

“Looks like.” Jason thought for a moment. “Let’s get Ray and Brock over here.”

It didn’t take long for Bravo Two and Bravo Five to rejoin them. “Anything?” Jason asked.

“Lot of the same faces we saw yesterday,” Ray said. “Definitely a spot for locals. D’you find something?”

“There’s a shop across the street that looks like it might have a camera,” Trent said. “If we could get a look at that footage…”

One hastily constructed plan later, Ray and Brock wandered into the store, making sure to go as far from the door as possible before Brock “accidentally” smashed something very expensive looking. Jason snuck in the front door and slipped behind the counter unnoticed as the owner went back to yell at the two tourists who were destroying his merchandise. He felt a wave of relief when he immediately found the connections for the camera and an even more relief when it turned out to be an extremely old model with a tape. Hopefully the owner wouldn’t notice it was missing for a while. He pulled it and hustled back the truck, waiting anxiously for Ray and Brock to settle up and head on back.

“Did you get it?” Brock asked when he and Ray slid into the back. 

Jason nodded as Metal floored it and took them back to base.

God bless Davis who had somehow managed to procure an appropriate player for the tape by the time they returned. “What did you have to do to get this so fast?” Ray asked as she inserted the tape.

She smiled. “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

“Listen, it’s going to take time for us to go through this,” Mandy said. “And it doesn’t help to have you breathing down our necks. Go take a break. We’ll get back to you.”

“We’re not leaving,” Jason said. Why did everyone keep trying to kick them out of this?

“Mandy’s right,” Lisa said. “Having all of ya’ll standing around watching isn’t going to help. Get outta here.” She locked eyes with Jason. “You’ll be my first call.”

He nodded. He didn’t like it. But he trusted Lisa and Mandy. If anybody was going to find their boys, it would be them.